


Sleepless in Auckland

by jennandanica, valuna



Series: A Distance Erased [4]
Category: LOTR RPS
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-16
Updated: 2009-11-16
Packaged: 2017-10-03 02:27:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandanica/pseuds/jennandanica, https://archiveofourown.org/users/valuna/pseuds/valuna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Next thing I know, you'll be telling me I can keep a toothbrush and change of clothes here."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleepless in Auckland

**Author's Note:**

> The year is 1997 and the place is Auckland, New Zealand. Harry's a director/actor and Karl's an actor. This is _not_ Est backstory and is in no way canon for that game.

Harry's not the heaviest of sleepers, and Karl's restlessness is tugging at him. First it's a hand on Harry's hip, and then a leg nudged in behind his knee. Then the whimpering starts. Mewling almost. And, finally, Harry turns over, props on his elbow and watches. It's as if Karl's having a conversation of his own, heated and bordering on violence. No words. Just a body moving on the edge of thrashing. Harry puts his hand out, presses his palm against Karl's chest, collects the heartbeats in too-sensitive finger pads.

Karl wakes with a start to find Harry watching him. Christ. Not only watching him, but touching him. And he instinctively jerks away. His heart rabbiting in his chest. Jaw aching from teeth clenched too tight. "Did I wake you?" he asks.

"Yes." It's the simple answer. Harry smiles, moves his hand back into place, laying it lightly on Karl's chest. "It's all right, though. I don't sleep very soundly most nights. And you," he tries to soothe, gently circling with his fingers, "sleep like the dead. Fitful, too many memories, haunting."

"I always thought the dead got to sleep peacefully," Karl says softly. "Now you're telling me I won't even get that." It still feels weird. Having Harry touch him like this. But it also feels good. Has him slowly settling.

"Common misconception. The dead never really rest." Harry likes touching Karl. It's familiar, almost, and that in itself is unusual. He's never experienced the emotion quite like this, desire and need coalescing. "What were you dreaming?"

Karl shrugs. "I don't remember." _Liar_.

Harry doesn't believe Karl for a second. He isn't sure why, but there's just this feeling he gets, like Karl's only ever wanting to let go with part of the truth. "We're gonna work on that lying. Doesn't help a relationship."

Karl rolls over onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. "There you go again with the relationship shit," he says, rubbing a hand over his face before dropping it to his side. "Doesn't it seem even the least bit fuckin' weird to you that we _just_ met and you're already making it sound like some sort of long-term thing?"

"Not long-term. Not necessarily. Still a relationship, though, even if it's just the month." Harry finally pulls his hand away, stifles a yawn. "I'm negotiable. You want breakfast or more sleep?"

Karl yawns too, the usual contagious reaction. "I don't know. What time is it?" He's not really hungry but he can't seem to bring himself to ask Harry to lie back down - just hold him for a while - after giving him grief on the relationship front.

"Hold on. Let me see." Harry leans over Karl, stretching and nudging the pillow out of the way enough to see the clock. "4:27. That's a.m. Too early."

"Way too fucking early," Karl agrees, enjoying the feel of Harry pressed close against him. "You want to go back to sleep?" His cock slowly stirring. _Way too early for that, too._ Or maybe not.

"Maybe." Harry lingers, drawing out the slide back over Karl's body. He dips his head and nuzzles at Karl's throat. "Or I could kiss you till you confess your dreams." He nibbles, biting softly.

"You'll be kissing me for a long time," Karl replies, swallowing a groan, his hand curled into Harry's hair. Encouragement.

"I've got all day." Harry can't help but notice the hand, the way Karl's fingers slip into his hair, curl around the strands, not pulling but holding steady. Holding on, perhaps. He continues working a path of random design down Karl's throat, kisses alternating with nibbles, the occasional suckling thrown in for good measure. "How long can you hold out?"

Harry's mouth scatters all thoughts, destroys all reason, and Karl groans again, the sound given voice this time, his body arching from the bed to press against Harry. "Longer than you can," he says eventually but it's bravado speaking. He really has no idea how long he could hold out against this man, Harry's determination matching his own.

Harry glances up, smiles and drops his head again. His tongue flickers over Karl's collarbone, tracing the fine dip of flesh. "You realize," he says, continuing to trace the path between words, his tongue lapping over the delicate protrusion of bone, "that's a challenge."

Karl's breath catches. Cock twitches. "Maybe." His hand tightens lightly in Harry's hair. "Are you up for it?" he asks, trying to catch a glimpse of Harry's face in the dim light of the room.

"Smart ass." Harry bites, hard and unrelenting, into the tender patch of Karl's chest. He's more than up for it. He knows he can match Karl's every move, nuance or any damned thing else the boy wants to throw at him.

Karl yelps, not even vaguely prepared for the pain. "Hey. What the hell was that for?" he asks, but he's already laughing. "For your information, I was serious." _Christ_. He's regretting the confession the moment it's out of his mouth.

There's no regret in Harry's mind or his voice. "I know. I don't like challenges." He licks over the bite. "Now, lie back. I haven't finished."

There's a 'fuck you' on Karl's tongue but it's quickly bitten back. Even in jest, he figures there'll be a limit to what Harry's willing to put up with and, for whatever reason, suddenly he _wants_ Harry to put up with him. "Yes, sir," he says with a smirk, following orders but unable to surrender completely.

The _sir_ throws Harry off for a second, then he's letting it wash the back of his mind. "Good boy," he murmurs, turning his attention back to the warm skin under his tongue, licking as he wriggles against Karl's body. First it's over the bite again, soothing it, and then he's moving, lapping his tongue over Karl's nipple, pressing rough against the bud of sensitive flesh. He blows out a slow, hot breath across the skin, licks again and gently takes the nub between his teeth, tongue flicking against its top.

Karl makes a soft sound in the back of his throat, eyes closing as Harry's mouth, teeth, tongue move over his chest. His hand finds its place in Harry's hair again, curling lightly, unwilling to make any move that would have Harry stopping. "Yeah, that's it," he whispers, arching into the touch, wanting even more but trying his best to be patient.

_I know that's it, boy. I bet I know exactly what drives you insane._ Harry works over one nipple, then the other, sucking hard and raking his teeth over the puckered flesh. He's not one to play fair, though, and he hadn't promised _not_ to touch, so he slides his hand down, works fingers over Karl's thigh and ghost-strokes Karl's cock, smiling to himself at how hard it already is.

"Oh, fuck," Karl chokes out when Harry touches him, although he keeps his voice soft, barely more than the whisper of only a moment before. "That's cheating," he groans, knowing damn well they never declared anything actually off limits.

Harry raises his head. "Never heard of all's fair, Karl?" He's grinning as he gives Karl's cock a quick, firm squeeze.

Karl's tempted to point out that's only in love or war and this is neither but he settles for growling, "bastard," his head dropped back onto the pillow with another low groan.

Taking that as tacit permission to keep going, Harry works his tongue lower, down over Karl's stomach, swirling and pressing into the navel, fingers massaging the perineum, stroking gently with his thumb up into the sacs.

Fingers tightening in Harry's hair, Karl tries to urge him lower. Pushes down into Harry's hand, his cock hard, hurting, smearing precome against his belly with every throb. "C'mon. Fuck," he whispers under his breath.

Harry looks up again. "Fuck what?"

_Christ_. "Fuck, Harry. Give me your mouth," Karl says, although it's closer to a plea than he'd care to admit.

That pulls out a smile on Harry's face. "You sound so good when you beg." He licks a little lower, tongue sliding through wisps of dark, short hair. "Although I didn't hear a please. Gotta have the magic word before you get the mouth." He's having more fun than he should, torturing Karl, and Harry would, if he stopped long enough to think, wonder why they're moving so fast, why it's gone from 'hi, how are you?' to him contemplating a future with the man sharing his bed for the night. But that wouldn't be Harry. He doesn't think. Just acts.

Karl exhales loudly, rolling his eyes in the dark. "Please, Harry. Suck my cock," he says finally. He knows how he sounds though. Knows he's pushing Harry but he can't help it.

"That was lame, Karl," Harry says, letting out a long sigh, "but I suppose it's the best you can do." That's definitely pushing, maybe where Harry shouldn't go, but there's no finding out the limits of a new relationship until you nudge the edges. He wedges himself between Karl's legs, pushing them apart, a good bit harder than he needs to, and half-kneels, more of a kneeling crouch. Then he licks. Just one swipe. Base to tip.

There's no way Karl's going to rise to the bait. If Harry wants someone easy, who's going to drop to their knees or beg without a second thought, he's with the wrong guy. And it'll take more than caring about how he sleeps or what he thinks to break down all the fucking walls Karl's built around himself.

Or so he's thinking. Until Harry drags his tongue up his cock and everything scatters again. "Fuck," he breathes, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. "More. Don't stop."

Harry pauses, blows a slow, hot breath over the head. He can play this game, or whatever game Karl wants to try. "Magic word, Karl. You don't tell me what to do. Understand?"

"And if I don't?" The words are out of Karl's mouth before he can stop them.

"I go ahead and suck you, but I don't put much attention to it, and you won't get nearly as much out of it." It's too early for Harry to care enough to argue the point.

Harry's response isn't what Karl expected. He'd thought he'd get something more along the lines of being told to get out or that Harry would stop altogether. And it should make it easier but there's still one thing he has to clarify. "This goes both ways, right?"

"Is that a sticking point in negotiations?" Harry should just stop, leave Karl alone. "You don't give in to me if I don't agree to do it?"

Karl swallows hard, the question echoing through his mind. _Is_ it a sticking point? Can he only do this if Harry agrees to the same? _Christ_. For once in his life he should be able to give in, really surrender to someone, without needing them to put him - hell, force him - there. What's the worst that could happen? He knows. Knows what his fears are. But there still has to be a time when he lets them go. "No," he says softly. "I guess not." His mouth dry with the words. "Please, Harry. I need your mouth. I need you."

"Good." Harry breathes out slowly, the sigh of relief couched in the hot whisper over Karl's cock. He might've given in, but he's not willing to make it part of a deal, if that's what they're doing. He could fight Karl down, tug at him till he bends, gives in, but this way is so much sweeter. He slides his mouth over the head, sucking just that most sensitive inch or so.

"Oh, god, yeah..." The words come easier this time. "Please, Harry... more..." Karl's fingers dig into the bed, the sheets clenched tight against his palms.

It's a slow slide down, Harry making the most of tasting Karl, swiping his tongue around Karl's cock, letting the head nudge the roof of his mouth before he starts sucking in earnest, not rough but consistently firm, solid.

Body arched tight as a drawn bow, Karl resists the urge to thrust into Harry's mouth, to fuck his throat with everything he's got, holds on til he's so close it seems like one more touch will send him over before he starts begging in earnest. "Please, Harry. Christ. Stop. Want you inside me. Please, fuck. Want to come with you inside me."

Harry pulls back slowly, licking the tip of Karl's cock before looking up. "How romantic," he murmurs. "Can you hold on while I find a condom?"

"You don't have to," Karl says, reluctant to let Harry go. Need overriding common sense. Overriding everything else. "I swear I'm clean and I trust you." _Trust_. Christ. He's not sure where that's come from but he does.

It takes Harry a minute to register Karl's words. "You're serious," he says, trying to read Karl's expression. Fuck. "Haven't gone bare in a long time. Still need lube, so I'm gonna have to scrounge for a minute." He works himself up over Karl's body, to the other nightstand, opens the drawer and pulls out a packet of lube before drawing back. "There's probably a condom in there somewhere. Should I look?"

"Do you want to?" Karl asks, the blood rushing so loudly in his ears that he can barely hear himself.

"No. Not really. I want to be utterly irresponsible." Harry pushes himself back, kneels between Karl's legs. "It's why I came to the set, why I pushed into the rough sex right off. You just struck me as a man who liked the whirlwind."

Karl gives a short, sharp laugh. Quiets, staring up at Harry in the half-light of the bedroom. "Then don't," he says. "Just fuck me. We both know what we're doing."

"Yeah, we do." Harry rips open the packet and squeezes out the lube, slathers it over his cock. "We're being mature adults," he says, working the rest of the lube from his fingers against the circle of Karl's hole, pushing in and massaging the muscle, "practicing semi-sane, hopefully safe, decidedly consensual sex."

It's definitely safe from his end, Karl wants to reassure Harry. He hasn't had sex without a condom since he was sixteen and way too fucking stupid to know better. _So what's your excuse now?_ He's been tested. He's clean. But none of it comes out. If he trusts Harry, he trusts him. So he just chuckles softly, the sound turning into a low moan as he bears down against Harry's fingers. "Please..."

Magical word, please. It makes the world disappear except for the man underneath him. Harry bends Karl's knees, pushing the legs to a better angle, hips up off the bed a bit as he wedges himself into the right spot. He wraps his hand around his cock and shifts his weight, then it's in and he's pressing forward, the burn immediate and searing, the friction exquisite. "Relax for me," he murmurs. "Just take it easy."

"I am," Karl insists, willing his body to open up, but Christ, it's harder, the burn more intense than it ever was with a condom. And so fucking good. He takes a deep breath and pushes against Harry, burying him deep with one rough movement, a sharp cry spilling from his mouth and his cock twitching so hard that for a moment he's positive he's done for.

"Fuckohhell." Harry leans down, braces against the bed, pulls back and pushes in again, a single and brutal thrust, and then he sets up the rhythm. Just as brutal, unrelenting. It's sinful at its best, the kind of pain Harry would beg for, if he were the one begging. He's not, though.

Karl shudders, spreading his legs wider and welcoming Harry in. "Oh, God, Harry," he cries. "Fuck me. Harder. That's it. Oh, god. _Please_. Hurt me." Drowning in sensation, in the pure brutal power behind Harry's thrusts.

Harder? Not a problem. Harry pounds into Karl's arse, shoving his body up the bed, consciously hurting him with every move, making sure the thrust is as powerful as it can be, moving his hands to clutch at Karl's hips, jerk him back down with each fuck. "C'mon, then, give it up, Karl," he growls.

Karl's hand slides to his cock without thinking but then he halts. Arches upward, kissing Harry hard, another "please" spilling from his lips and smeared across Harry's mouth. Intent on proving to Harry - for reasons he doesn't even want to admit to himself - that he _can_ be good, that he _can_ play things this way.

"Good boy," Harry mutters, kissing Karl back just as hard. "Wanna come?" He lets go of Karl's hips, balancing his weight on one hand, snaking the other between their bodies, grabbing Karl's cock. "Do it," he snarls, giving Karl a trio of quick, harsh thrusts.

And it's Harry's words - the order - almost as much as his hand on Karl's cock that sends Karl over. Has his eyes clenched shut, teeth gritted tight as he comes, the sensation slamming through him, seeming like it lasts forever.

That's all it takes, and Harry stops holding out, comes with a final, brutal shove forward, emptying out with no barrier, nothing except the sensation of warmth flooding into a lover's body. Somewhere in all of it, he lets go of Karl's cock and grabs his wrist, constricting as the ripples shatter through him, not wanting to come down too quickly.

The feel of Harry spilling inside him takes Karl by surprise. Has him feeling like Harry's marked him, claimed him in a way that goes straight to his soul. But then just as suddenly he's feeling vulnerable again. Like maybe he's made a mistake. A huge fucking mistake.

He tamps the fear down, shoves it aside and swallows hard. "Christ, Harry. That was fuckin' amazing."

The moment needs silence, just a brief pause while Harry gathers his brain. _What the fuck did you just do?_ He slowly pulls out, enough to stretch off to Karl's side. "Yeah, amazing." He kisses Karl's shoulder. "Wanna tell me about your dreams now," he whispers.

_Fuck_. Karl clears his throat. "It's nothin' really," he whispers back, only the near dark allowing for the confession. "I was abused as a kid. Still dream about it sometimes." And even that's more than he's ever told anyone.

_Oh, hell. And you just fucked him like that, Harry? Brilliant._ Harry stretches out, his toes rubbing against Karl's ankles. "Sorry," he murmurs, laying his hand across Karl's stomach. "I didn't cause more problems, did I? Being this rough, aggressive."

Karl shakes his head, his voice rough when he speaks. "No. I like rough and aggressive." Exhales softly. "I don't know if I would have regardless of what happened but yeah, I mean, there's the whole issue of consent." He places his own hand over Harry's, squeezing his fingers.

"I tend to be rather fond of consent, Karl. Not going to ever do anything without it." Harry finds it natural to be able to talk with Karl this way. Odd, but natural. Like the first meeting, where they fell into a pattern, a banter that made sense only to them.

"Good," Karl murmurs, "cause I don't think there's anything that would make me leave faster than that." _Leave? Since when the fuck were you staying?_ Unable to shake the feeling that he's making assumptions he shouldn't be making.

_Now who's talking about relationships?_ Harry grins, rubs his fingers down Karl's hip. "You can stay, Karl, for as long as you're comfortable. Tonight. Tomorrow."

Karl grins, seizing on the chance to make light of things. "Next thing I know, you'll be telling me I can keep a toothbrush and change of clothes here."

"Long as you do your own laundry, we're fine."

Karl snorts softly, following that with a yawn. Avoiding the matter for now. "It's still way too fucking early to be up," he says. "Want to go back to sleep for a bit?"

"Yeah, drift off," Harry says, snuggling down into the pillow. "Alarm's not set so sleep as long as you like."

"Can I put my arm round you?" Karl asks, hoping Harry doesn't mind being molested in his sleep.

"Sure. Don't mind at all." Harry won't admit to finding even more comfort in that. Too soon, maybe, or just not worth mentioning.

Karl grins, rolling onto his side and wrapping his arm around Harry's waist. Presses his face against the back of Harry's neck, breathing in the scent of him and savouring the feel of being with someone - but not just anyone - like this.

The voices in the back of his mind are still telling him to be careful, that he's taking things too fast, trusting too much, but it feels good, feels right, and he doesn't have the strength to fight it right now. Just closes his eyes and goes to sleep.


End file.
